[When his communicator pings, Kieran can feel his heart stop along with it. It takes him a few moments, but he manages to find the button to play his messages and presses it. When Reynir’s happy voice pops up, he feels his stomach begin to churn.]

[He’d been limiting his contact with other people during his time in the medbay. He’d chalked it up to wanting to spend the time convalescing and learning to adapt to his new impairment, but the truth is far less positive. He—in some flavor of irony—didn’t want anyone to see him like this. It was bad enough that whenever his friends visited, often to read something to him or chat about some positive things going on, he could catch the undertones of pity in their voices (some of it imagined, maybe, but it’s real enough to him). To have to explain it again to another friend and deal with their well-meaning sentiments fills him with a sickening anxiety he’d thought he’d left behind.]

[But he can’t leave Reynir hanging like that, especially not when Anne is also counting on his answer.]

[It’s part muscle memory and part training that guides his fingers as he selects the buttons that will let him respond, although he hesitates before he makes that final move. Finally, he sucks it up and confirms that he’d like to send a message in return.]

H-Hey, Reynir!

Feel free to, uh, h-head over to the barn. There should be a few hay bales set up alredy f-fer the horses. You can, uh, you can take however much ya need from there. They’ll be okay fer a while. They won’t miss it.

I-I, won’t be there to greet ya. I’m stuck in the medbay f-fer a l-little bit. Don’t know how long.